“Why now?” Elizabeth asked the question for Mary as well.
“While you were at Netherfield Park and before Jane passed, your father received a letter from his heir presumptive expressing a desire to visit Longbourn. Before he could inform your mother, Jane became ill and he wrote telling the man not to come,” Gardiner revealed. “He shared the letter with Phillips and me,” her uncle paused and shook his head slowly, “it was the drivel of a simpleton and a sycophant with a simultaneous overblown opinion of himself.
“Bennet wrote after Jane’s passing to defer the visit indefinitely, at the very least for a year. The man wrote back showing his true colours demanding the hand of one of you, or he would turn my sister and any unmarried daughters from Longbourn the day he arrived to take up his, as he termed it, birthright.
“In the past, your father would have been highly diverted and would have done nothing as he cared not what happened to the estate after his own death. The problem with this obsequious, pompous Collins fellow is that Bennetis now very concerned for the future welfare of his wife and daughters, along with the future prosperity of Longbourn and those who depend on the estate. The same day he received the ridiculous letter, he went to see Phillips and had him initiate a simple recovery. Your uncle has retained a barrister, who is very experienced in this area of the law, and the case will be presented to the Court of Chancery when it begins to hear cases again on Monday the fourteenth day of January 1811. Phillips and the barrister believe your father will prevail in court.”
“Papa’s actions only reinforce the need for a reconciliation and for me to forgive both him and Mama,” Elizabeth opined. No one pointed out to her, it was the first time since Jane became ill she used those particular appellations for her parents.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Darcy had not noticed any unexpected deliveries to Pemberley, and nothing he had attempted had loosened Giana’s lips regarding what his surprise was. His own gift for Giana had been too hard to hide from his sister.
He had ordered her a new, top of the line, grand pianoforte. It had arrived earlier that afternoon, and there was no way to not have Giana notice the old instrument being moved to the third floor’s guest wing music room that morning. As soon as the older pianoforte was moved—one which had been purchased for their late grandmother—Giana knew what her present was. She had been bouncing on the balls of her feet as the new grand pianoforte was removed from the wooden crate, and the legs and pedals attached to it. The purchase price included the services of an expert to oversee the instrument’s assembly and tuning.
Even Giana’s bliss at playing the new pianoforte for the first time did not cause her to divulge what she was to gift him on Christmas day. The only slight clue came from his sister asking for and receiving a promise he would not interrogatethe footmen, Mrs Annesley, or the coachman who had been with her and Richard as to where they had travelled the day she had discovered what she chose for him.
Richard had let slip it was only about an hour’s travel. All that did was confuse Darcy more. Matlock and Metting were both more than an hour, and Kympton and two other small towns were a half hour away or less. Most annoying of all, his aunt, uncle, Marie, and Andrew all smiled at him cryptically as if they knew something he did not.
By the Sunday before Christmas, Darcy had given up trying to divine what Giana’s secret was. His sister had well and truly won this year.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Bennet saw the letter before him, but he was almost afraid to open it. He would recognise Lizzy’s hand anywhere. He knew what he hoped the letter said, but as he was not sure, he was aware he needed to read it before he raised his wife’s expectations their family would be made whole again, as whole as it could be with Jane no longer being with them in the mortal world.
There was also one from his cousin, who by now would have been served with the papers informing him of the case before the court regarding breaking the entail on Longbourn. He knew it was cowardly, but Bennet decided he would read his cousin’s drivel before Lizzy’s letter. He broke the seal.
21 December 1810
Hunsford Parsonage
Bordering the great estate of Rosings Park, Kent
Mr Bennet,
Your despicable actions to try and deprive me of my birthright only prove how justified my honoured father was to be at variance with you. You have no honour in attempting to deny me that which is mine.
My patroness has written a letter to the court, demanding the case be dismissed summarily. As they should, the court will bow to Lady Catherine’s wisdom and power, and you will soon discover how you have erred in crossing me and incurring the wrath of my beneficent patroness.
Being certain they will follow Lady Catherine’s edicts; and as my patroness has advised me not to, I will not debase myself by attending the court. You will not be allowed to continue to live on an estate which should have belonged to a Collins decades ago. Once this sham court case of yours has been dismissed, Lady Catherine will begin proceedings to have you, your wife, and daughters removed from my estate well before you pass away.
In light of your attempt to deny me that which I am due, I withdraw my offer of marriage to your eldest living daughter. Your actions have cost her a far better match to which she or any of your other daughters can ever aspire.
I take no leave of you, Mr Bennet. I send no compliments to your wife and daughters. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.
Mr Collins
“You will finally discover how little influence and power your deified patroness has,” Bennet told the letter aloud. “Hmmm, I wonder what the Bishop of Kent will think when he reads your letters?”
He could no longer procrastinate, so Bennet took up the letter from Lizzy and broke the Lambert seal.
19 December 1810
Lambert Hills, Derbyshire
Mama and Papa.
If you will have us, Mary and I will return to Longbourn with the Gardiners, Charlotte, and our sisters after Twelfth Night.
